


quiet afternoons

by zogratiscest



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Domestic Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Incest, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Kissing, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29512422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zogratiscest/pseuds/zogratiscest
Summary: langris takes care of finral after work.
Relationships: Finral Roulacase/Langris Vaude
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	quiet afternoons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sexualnt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexualnt/gifts).



Four of his students are standing next to his car when Langris exits the school building.

He chews on the inside of his cheek, thinking only of Finral when Mimosa stopped him to ask him with some last minute help before the end of the week. Most of the time, Langris is too nice to say no. Finral knows to wait by his car if Langris is a little late leaving his classroom, but he never likes to make the boy wait too long just in case. In case of what? Langris has no idea. He just has some weird, permanent anxiety where Finral is concerned.

After all the work it took to save him from their parents, Langris is not exactly planning on being the reason something bad happens to him. Taking care of Finral is his top priority.

“What the hell?” He stops short at the end of the steps and narrows his eyes over at his car. He recognizes all four of his students, of course. He sees them every day and is used to interacting with them, and for the most part all four of them are good kids. Disruptive, sometimes, but nothing he can’t handle. “What are they doing around my car— Oh.”

Finral is standing in the middle of their little group. When he sees Langris at the bottom of the steps, he lifts an arm and waves wildly, shouting across the distance. “Nii-san!”

Too cute. Finral is too cute, and it makes Langris’s heart beat faster. “Baby,  _ please. _ ” The words are a whisper only he can hear, which is for the best, because he doubts any sane person would not look at him like something was severely wrong with him.

“Hi, Mr. Vaude!” David beams up at him when Langris is close to his car, and Langris nods in acknowledgement of the boy.  _ The _ troublemaker of his class, of course. “We were just keeping Finral company why he was waiting for you to get done. Isn’t that right?”

Precious angel that he is, Finral rocks on the balls of his feet, his smile stretched so wide it hurts Langris’s face just a little. “Yeah! Finesse gave me fruit snacks, too.”

“I just had them.” Finesse’s cheeks pick up that pink tint that Finral is used to seeing. Sometimes she gets dragged into what the boys are doing and always gets embarrassed when he has to tell  _ all _ of them to be quiet. And like hell she just  _ had _ fruit snacks on her. They’re one of Finral’s favorite treats. She’s probably been carrying them around in case she ran into him, and she isn’t even the only student he has that does that.

But Langris gets it. He does. A chunk of his class just does not care he has a little brother in their school beyond avoiding him at all costs so Langris has no reason to get angry at them. And still another chunk views Finral as their honorary little sibling, and Langris knows that’s true because Finral has come home with little toys and snacks gifted to him by Langris’s class when they bumped into him at some point during the day.

It’s kind of cute, and he tries not to give his students too much hell over doing it. Just because he’s a bit overprotective doesn’t mean any of them are a threat to Finral.

“I’m sure,” Langris says, and Finesse blushes slightly harder as she clears her throat and adjusts the strap of her bag. “Well, thank you for watching Finral for me. Ms. Vermillion needed a hand with something, so I wasn’t on time leaving today.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, he’s adorable.” Zora stretches out a hand and ruffles Finral’s hair, and Finral grins up at him, all bright-eyed at having older kids give him attention.

Langris knows. Oh  _ fuck _ does he know. “You ready to go home now, Finral? And you four really should be heading home. I know you walk, but you don’t want to be out late.”

Neige scuffs his shoe along the asphalt and timidly smiles. Again, getting roped into the more disruptive moments in class. “Mr. Vaude’s right, it’ll be creepy if we’re still on the way home and it starts getting dark. Nice to see you again, Finral!”

“Bye, everyone!” Finral giggles and Langris’s heart thumps pathetically hard against his ribcage. It’s a miracle that none of his students hear it, or notice how sweaty his palms become when Finral is this ridiculously cute. “What are we having for dinner, nii-san?”

“Spaghetti, I think,” Langris says, and Finral hops into the car without another word.

The drive home is a peaceful one, because they live in a peaceful part of the city where it bleeds into the suburbs and gives way to fresh air and bright, green grass. Finral chats about his day on the way there, with Langris sprinkling in questions as needed. All of his classes went fine, he got an A on the test he took last week, Asta has a crush on Yuno—

“Since when did Asta have a crush on Yuno?” Langris asks, and Finral looks up at him from his seat, all wide-eyed. “I mean, you never mentioned Asta having a crush on anybody.”

“I don’t think he knows.” Finral giggles and swings his legs back and forth a little, and Langris grips the steering wheel tighter. Just barely, but enough. “But he talks about him  _ all _ the time and shares his snacks with him and they play together a lot, and today he said Yuno was pretty. He said he was  _ pretty. _ I think that means he likes him.”

Langris swallows. His throat clicks. “That sounds about right, I’m sure he’ll figure it out come Valentine’s Day. What about you? Do you have a crush on anybody?”

Finral is quiet for a moment, but when he does answer, Langris’s heart hiccups. “Just you.”

“I like you, too.” It comes out extremely childish, but the way Finral’s cheeks heat up the prettiest rose pink Langris has ever seen, it’s well worth it. “Do you want garlic bread with your spaghetti? And save room for dessert, I have something special for after dinner.”

“Yes I want garlic bread,” Finral says, and Langris smiles and ruffles his hair at a light.

Their apartment complex is quiet this evening. Langris parks in his usual spot— there are no  _ actual _ rules but there are unspoken ones— and takes Finral’s backpack to carry it inside for him. It leaves Finral free to leap out of the car and sprint up to the front door with Langris’s keys in hand, very proud of himself for getting to unlock the door for both of them. Because they’re on the ground floor, their front door opens outside, rather than into the halls of the complex itself. Langris has always appreciated that.

Adorable boy that he is, Finral waits at the door for him. “Nii-san doesn’t have to carry my bag anymore, you know, I’m not a little baby. I can carry it myself if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” Langris tells him, and Finral bites his bottom lip. His violet eyes are huge, shining with love that makes Langris’s stomach flutter like he’s in high school again. Oftentimes, Finral makes him feel like he never really left. “I like taking care of you.”

Their apartment is quiet. Finral takes his backpack into the kitchen with him, and Langris watches him unpack his homework and get started on it while Langris gets started on dinner. On a typical day, Finral will finish his work while Langris cooks for them or orders them something to eat, and then after Langris will grade papers and read essays while Finral plays. Sometimes with other kids at the complex, sometimes just with himself.

Occasionally if he has no homework at all, Langris lets him help with dinner, carrying ingredients from the pantry to the counter for him. He knows to avoid the stove and oven if they’re hot, and he never goes near the knives. Langris handles the delicate parts.

So Finral gets to work. Langris finds a pot big enough to boil the spaghetti and sets the water on the burner while he assembles ingredients. He makes sauce from scratch because cooking is therapeutic when he hasn’t had a long, tiring day at school and he loves seeing Finral’s face light up when he eats. Langris spoils him, well and truly. Spoils him rotten, because Finral was so skinny when he came to live with Langris that Langris felt sick.

Home cooked meals as often as Langris can manage now, and his favorites when he can’t.

“Can you help me with this problem?” Finral asks, and Langris glances down at the sauce and gives it one final stir before coming over to see where he’s stumped.

“Let me see. Show me where you’re stuck.” Langris leans over him, resting a hand on his small back, feeling the easy rise and fall of his breathing. He just likes to touch Finral, rubbing along his spine while he talks him through the math problem he’s on.

Every day feels perfect when it can be as simple as this one. As easy as breathing.

Finral looks up at him and smiles when he says thank you, and Langris’s throat sticks together suddenly just looking at him. Those eyes that always seem to reach between his ribs and squeeze his heart directly, that smile he can never quite get enough of. He leans forward without thinking about it and pecks him lightly on the lips, and Finral blushes for him. Just for him. Because Langris is the only person that he likes.

“Good job,” Langris tells him, and Finral squirms in his chair. “You’re so smart.”

“I still needed help,” Finral protests, puffing out his cheeks, and Langris kisses him again. Slower, this time, and sweeter. And then kisses him on the forehead until he whines.

“It takes a smart person to know when to stop and ask for help. Being stubborn in your ignorance means you can’t grow.” Langris kisses him one last time, a flick of tongue against his lower lip making Finral melt against him. “Now finish your homework, honey.”

Langris stirs the sauce and lets the spaghetti finish cooking, and Finral comes to the stove when Langris calls him so he can be a taste tester. It’s cute, watching him wrinkle his nose and close his eyes, like he’s trying really hard to check the flavor profile of spaghetti sauce. Everything about him is perfect. Langris wants to kiss him again, but he doesn’t because otherwise they’ll never end up eating. He’ll take Finral off to his bedroom, strip him naked, and kiss him everywhere just to see all the cute faces he can make.

_ I have a problem, _ he thinks, but he knows he has no intention of doing anything about it.

“It’s missing something,” Finral finally says, and Langris tastes it again and agrees.

He gets the garlic bread out of the oven while Finral sets the table for him as neatly as possible, his completed homework tucked back into his bag. Langris never asks to see it. He never has to. He did, in the very early days of them sharing a home together, but Finral has never lied to him about finishing it and so he trusts him now. Little things like that to reassure his baby brother that he does believe what he says.

It goes both ways, after all. Trust. They both need to believe in each other.

“It smells  _ so _ good,” Finral tells him, letting Langris serve him because they both know Langris is a hopeless, lost cause when it comes to Finral. “What did you have for dessert?”

“I told you it was a surprise,” Langris says, and Finral pouts up at him adorably.

“Oh- _ kay. _ ” Finral breaks off into a giggle and Langris kisses the top of his head, all that soft brown hair. “Oh! I have a permission slip in my bag for you to sign tonight.”

“Field trip coming up?” Finral nods, and Langris cuts him a piece of garlic bread and sets it on the smaller plate next to his bowl of spaghetti. “Tell me where you’re going, little one.”

Finral tells him about the field trip while they eat, wiping the corners of his mouth off as he goes. He’s precious when he’s excited about something, his face flushed from how quickly he talks, his eyes glittering like amethyst stones, and Langris has to work very hard to focus on his food. He’s gotten good at making spaghetti, and it’s one of Finral’s favorite things to eat. It’s also very, very easy to hide vegetables in the sauce with the sausage.

He makes just enough for the two of them to comfortably eat, because he’d rather Finral have something different every day than leftovers. “Still have room for dessert?”

“Yes!” Finral carries his bowl, plate, and cutlery to the sink, waiting patiently as Langris loads all of it into the dishwasher. He’ll run it after Finral takes his shower. “What is it?”

Langris smiles at him. “Eager, aren’t you? I have it waiting in the refrigerator for you.”

The cogs turn in Finral’s head; Langris can tell because he makes the cutest little faces when he’s trying to figure out what Langris has gotten him. “So it’s not  _ frozen… _ ”

“Not frozen,” Langris agrees. “I didn’t feel like fighting with ice cream tonight.”

“I like soft serve more anyway,” Finral says, and Langris nods in agreement because, for the most part, he does too. And he would have had to set ice cream out to let it thaw enough for that. Besides, they both like it with cake more than alone.

Once he takes Finral’s dinner dishes, he nods toward the fridge. “If you’re careful and don’t drop it, you can get it out of the fridge for me. And plates, we’ll need plates.”

He listens for the little squeal of excitement and watches as Finral carefully picks up the cheesecake he’s been hiding for the last couple of days, carrying it over to the table for them. “Thank you, nii-san!” Finral loves cheesecake. It’s one of his favorites.

Langris has fresh fruit to go with his cheesecake, cherries he tops it off with while Finral is content to eat his as it is. It’s just the right amount of rich and sweet to finish off dinner with, and then Langris finishes loading the dishwasher and drags his bag into the living room so he can get started on his own work. Finral will shower and find something to occupy himself with for the rest of the night— And if he wants Langris’s attention, he’ll get it, because Langris is horrible when it comes to telling his baby brother  _ no. _

Finral hovers by the couch for a moment after Langris sits down, fidgeting with his fingers. “Nii-san,” he says, and Langris looks up at him. Right into those gorgeous eyes. “Thank you for getting the cheesecake, it was really good.”

Before he can tell Finral it wasn’t a problem, Finral darts in and kisses him. Langris can taste the lingering sweetness on his lips and his cock twitches in response. And then Finral is gone, hurrying off to the bathroom, his socked feet stomping the ground so hard it echoes in his wake. All while Langris stares at the spot he just was, lungs tight.

Right. Grade papers. He stays on top of his that as much as possible so he has more time to spend with Finral. Essays are the real kick to the teeth, but Langris tries to start reading them at work and is willing to take them early from the students he has who finish them. He’s a lot more lax than some teachers, but he figures his students who bother to finish assignments early should get to turn them in to him if they want to.

His lips still taste faintly of cheesecake once he grades the last paper.

It’s still early but Finral dashes out of the hallway in— Langris’s brain short circuits when he sees him, because surely he must be imagining things. Finral would not do this to him, because this is cruelty taken to a new level. This is downright  _ torture. _

Finral walks into the living room in the sweatshirt Langris just let him have last weekend and… Nothing else. All bare legs underneath the hem, sleeves too long for his arms. So cute that Langris almost snaps the pen in his hand in an effort to shove it back into his back as quickly as possible, not able to take his eyes off of his little brother.

Honestly, what an  _ angel. _ No one has ever been more beautiful than this boy.

“You look cute,” Langris says, and Finral stops short, fiddling with the strings hanging from the hood. The apartment is a little cool today, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Thanks.” Finral smiles at him, all shy and sweet, and finally walks the rest of the way over to the couch. He ignores the space Langris cleans off for him and crawls directly into his lap instead, like he isn’t too big to still be doing that. “Is this okay, nii-san?”

Langris slips an arm around Finral’s waist and nods, and because Finral is sitting on his lap, in  _ his _ sweatshirt, he pets a hand down Finral’s bare thigh. “Of course it is, sweetheart.”

“I like it when you hold me.” Finral throws his arms around Langris’s shoulders, nuzzling against the side of his neck, and Langris sucks in air through his teeth. “Not too heavy?”

He will be, soon, but Langris will probably just ignore it then now that he knows Finral likes to be held like this. “Not at all. Just get comfortable. Did you want to watch something?”

Finral picks a movie for them to watch and Langris makes himself comfortable on the couch with Finral curled up against his chest, small and soft. His legs do get a little cold so he ends up climbing off to get a blanket, but then he’s right back a moment later, snuggling into Langris’s waiting embrace. He belongs there. Langris hadn’t wanted to leave him behind at all, and now he’s spent every day ensuring Finral is as happy as he can be.

Probably he’s crazy for being that devoted to him, but Finral… Had it rough. When Langris came to pick him up and bring him to his apartment with his two small suitcases of things, he’d been so skinny Langris could count his ribs. There were bruises, though Ledior swore neither of them had ever hit him. It had taken weeks for Finral to offer him a timid smile, and he picked his way around Langris carefully and quietly like he was afraid.

Maybe he’s crazy, but Langris can’t help himself. He watched his brother walk around his apartment like a small, wounded fawn for so long that all he can do is everything for him.

They finish a movie, something light-hearted and funny that has Finral giggling, when Finral leans up and kisses him on the cheek. On the jaw. Small little pecks of his lips, but Langris notices them nonetheless. When he tilts his head just enough, Finral kisses him on the lips.

“Did you just want attention?” Langris pets down his side through the heavy, bunched-up fabric of the sweatshirt. It looks cute on Finral. He’s never asking for it back.

“I like it when nii-san pays attention to me.” Finral nibbles his lower lip for a moment and Langris wants to be the one doing that. “I like it when you hold me like this, too. It’s… I don’t know. I just like it. Nii-san is so warm.” And Finral snuggles into him again.

He might not be able to explain it properly. Langris would believe that. What he thinks it is is simple: Finral feels warm and safe in his arms, and so he wants to be close to Langris as much as he can to bask in that feeling. He’d spent most of his life  _ not _ feeling safe. Which is why Langris really does have to dote on him. Why punishments are just the two of them talking over what happened. Why he never raises his voice with Finral.

“I like paying attention to you,” Langris says, and Finral blinks up at him, all long lashes and soft eyes, and Langris says  _ fuck it _ and leans down to give him a true, proper kiss.

His mouth tastes like cheesecake when Langris licks into it, unable to really help himself when it comes to kissing Finral. He has such a cute little mouth, such full lips that curl up at the corners like he’s always smiling now, and it’s so easy to kiss him. He goes soft and warm and needy when Langris has him like this, wrapped up in his arms and drinking him in. The taste of him, the warm curl of his little tongue, the gasping noises he makes.

When he pulls back, Finral’s cheeks are as red as roses, his eyes hooded as he catches his breath. “Nii-san tastes like cherries,” he says, and Langris’s heart thuds fondly.

“Why don’t you get the cherries out of the fridge and we can share the rest of them?” He can just pick up more later, and besides, Finral likes them now. Because Langris does.

“Okay.” Finral kisses him again, warm and lingering, and then slips off of his lap and off to the kitchen, bare feet padding softly on the carpet and hardwood.

They spend the rest of the night working through the cherries, with Finral gasping every time Langris licks the juice off of his chin.

**Author's Note:**

> wow i sure do love kid fin so much i could d*e


End file.
